Show No Emotion
by Sassafrass86
Summary: Sark has turned himself into the CIA. Is there more to him than Vaughn and Sydney may think? Last two chapters are up! The story is now COMPLETE. Chapter 11-Can Sydney save Sark from Sloane's clutches? Chapter 12-Sydney's Lament. RR!
1. Prologue

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

**A/N #2: This chapter will be in Vaughn's POV.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

The real reason why Sark turned himself in to the CIA is a mystery to me. He says it is because he is "fed up with Arvin Sloane and Irina Derevko." I don't think that's the case. Something seems wrong to me. An assassin doesn't turn himself in without a specific agenda. The CIA found that out the hard way with Derevko. 

They don't know that I am watching them from the security camera. Sark claims that he knows where Sloane and Irina are hiding, and he has offered to lead us to them. Guards follow Sydney, who follows Sark from his holding cell. I cannot hear a word, but something Sydney says stops Sark in his tracks. I cannot fathom how this young man can be such a dangerous person. His youthfulness has been replaced with wisdom, and he has trained himself well. I can see Sydney's anger on her face, yet Sark shows no emotion. He stares straight ahead, proud and dignified. I can see that the guards are starting to become uncomfortable. A few of them are shifting uneasily, others wiping sweat from their brows. Sydney stands her ground and continues to talk to Sark. Then, something catches my eye. Sark has averted his eyes from the target he had been staring at and now looks at the floor. Sydney does not realize this, for Sark's head remains in the same position. He looks as if Sydney's continued comments are making him upset. But Sark is a man of no emotion. Or so I thought. Suddenly, Sark looks up, directly at the camera, as if he feels that someone is watching. I study his eyes for a moment. For a brief moment, I think I see tears, but no…there is nothing but coldness now. It must have been the light. After all, Sark shows no emotion. Or is there more to this kid then I thought? 


	2. Simplicity

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"Hey, Syd," Michael Vaughn whispered into his girlfriend's ear. 

Sydney Bristow giggled with delight and gave him a kiss. "Hey," she replied, sighing. 

He stroked her hair with one hand, wrapping his other arm around her waist. She giggled again. "Vaughn," she said in a mock lecturing tone, "not now." 

"Oh, yes, now, Agent Bristow," Vaughn replied, "because I need a little loving, and it's going to come from you." 

Sydney was about to reply when Eric Weiss rushed up to them. 

"Sorry to interrupt the love fest, guys, really, but I have big news!" 

Sydney and Vaughn straightened up. "What is it?" Sydney asked. 

"Okay, are you ready for this? Maybe you should sit down, because this is big. I mean, this is really—" 

_"What is it?"_ Vaughn and Sydney demanded in unison. 

Weiss took a deep breath. "Sark just turned himself in to the CIA." 

Sydney and Vaughn looked at each other, shocked and wide-eyed. Sydney turned back to Weiss. 

"Where is he?" 

"Some guards just took him to a cell…your mother's old cell." 

Sydney nodded slowly. She took her boyfriend's hand. "Let's go have a talk with him, Vaughn."

As they walked down the long hallway, both Sydney and Vaughn didn't know what to expect. Irina Derevko turning herself in…it _could_ be understood that she wanted to be in alliance with her daughter or simply wanted to earn her trust. However, _Sark_ was a different story. How could this possibly benefit him? Sydney smirked as they stopped in front of the cell. Sark was dressed in Hannibal Lecter-esque clothing and lying back on a cot-less metal bed. 

He sensed their presence and stood. He gave them an eerie smile and clasped his hands together. 

"Why, Ms. Bristow, what brings you here?" he asked, walking toward the glass barrier. 

Sydney stiffened, but felt a bit of comfort when Vaughn rubbed her back. 

"I could ask you the same thing, Sark," she replied, trying to keep her voice in monotone. 

"Ah, well, I could give you so many answers, Ms. Bristow." He glanced at Vaughn. "Well, well, look what we have here. I don't believe we've officially met, which is quite a pity. I do like to get to know people before I shoot them."

Vaughn took a sharp intake of breath, remembering the way the bullet from Sark's gun had hit him. He had come so close to death at the hands of this man. He couldn't find his voice. Fortunately, Sydney covered for him.

"This is Agent Vaughn. That's all you need to know, Sark, do you understand?"

Sark chuckled. "I'm a criminal, Ms. Bristow, not short-minded."

"Why did you turn yourself in? What's in it for you?"

Sark sighed and shrugged. "Quite frankly, Ms. Bristow, I was getting fed up with Arvin Sloane and Irina Derevko. They aren't exactly a constant treat to work with. Always expecting me to play their lapdog, the fools."

"And…that's it? You got tired of Sloane and Derevko, so you _turned yourself in_? I don't buy that."

"What can I say, Ms. Bristow? I'm a man of short patience and high agendas. I don't have the time or the patience to work with the likes of those two."

"So you want to help the CIA find them? Is that right?"

"Yes."

"I have to tell you, Sark, you're making all of this extremely simple. It's pretty hard to believe."

Sark raised an eyebrow. "I assure you, Ms. Bristow, nothing about this is 'simple.'"

Sydney paused before continuing, "You're going to need to take a polygraph test."

"I've already come to that conclusion, yes."

"Now."

"Fine."

"And if you do _anything_ to screw this up, you're not going to be seeing the light of day for a very long time."

Sark rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, let's get on with it."

Sydney exchanged a look with Vaughn, then nodded to the guards. "Let's go." 


	3. Compassion

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past. **

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ **

Sydney and Vaughn watched from behind the two-way glass window. 

"Are you okay?" she asked. 

He nodded. "Yeah, of course." 

Sydney sighed, knowing she wouldn't get anything more, and continued to watch Sark. 

"Answer all questions with 'yes' or 'no,'" the interrogator said gruffly. "Do you understand?" 

"Yes." 

"Are you responsible more any murders?" 

"Yes." 

"Have you turned yourself in to the CIA for your own personal gain?" 

"No." 

"Are you planning on betraying the CIA?" 

"No." 

"Are you going to help the CIA find the location of Irina Derevko and Arvin Sloane?" 

"Yes." 

"Are you…" 

Sydney's eyes began to flutter as the interrogator went on with the test. Looking at Sark's slouching and fatigued form, she almost felt sorry for him. She kicked herself at the thought. Feel sorry for Sark? That would be the day. 

The full interrogation had taken two hours. Directly following, the guards had led Sark back to his cell. Sydney and Vaughn had run into Jack and Kendall, and she had excused herself from the small circle of men to pay Sark a quick visit. She wasn't sure _why_ she had felt the need to see him. She supposed it was seeing him so tired earlier, so vulnerable, so…human. He was sleeping on the metal, and she made a mental note to herself to get him sheets and a pillow. She tensed as he moved, afraid that he would wake up and catch her watching him. Instead, he turned on his side and let out small moan, continuing with his slumber. 

It was strange, Sydney thought to herself. She didn't feel a sexual _attraction_ to Sark. He was handsome, yes, but the thought of touching him was not an appealing thought. However, she did feel some sort of connection. She now felt the urge to walk into his cell and just sit at his side. She wanted to play with the perfect little curls at the nape of his neck. She wanted to get inside this young man's head so she could understand his motives. How could she feel so warmly for a cold-blooded killer? She had thought that she despised him, but seeing him sleep brought a new sense of peacefulness to Sark. She couldn't be anxious about a sleeping man, after all. She wondered how old he was, where he came from, what his first name was. She was so deep in thought that she hadn't even realized someone had come up next to her. 

"Syd?" he asked, touching her arm. He pulled back when she gasped and jumped. 

"Vaughn?" she exclaimed, putting her hand to her chest and catching her breath. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" 

"No, no, it's okay, I…I wasn't paying attention. Don't worry, I'm okay." 

"What are you doing here?" 

She shrugged. "I honestly have no idea. I had this feeling, so I came down." 

"Has anything happened? Did he say anything?" 

Sydney shook her head. "No, he's just been sleeping. Oh, that reminds me, we should get him a cot or something. You know, make him comfortable." 

Vaughn raised an eyebrow. "Why do you care whether he's comfortable or not?" 

"I…I don't. I just think that if he's going to help us find Sloane and my mother, the least we could do is let him sleep on something that won't break his back!" 

"Okay, okay," Vaughn laughed, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I'm sorry. We'll talk to Kendall and get something for him." 

Sydney bit her lip. "I'm sorry I exploded. I don't know why I feel so much concern for him. I'm supposed to _hate_ him." 

Vaughn reached for Sydney and pulled her into a hug. "You're human, Syd. It's normal." 

"Yeah, it's real normal to feel so bad for an assassin," Sydney said. 

Vaughn smiled. "Don't worry, Syd. I still love you." 

Sydney laughed and gave him a small punch on the arm. "You'd better." 


	4. Immunity

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"So you know the exact location of Irina Derevko and Arvin Sloane?" Kendall asked, standing among Jack Bristow, Sydney, Vaughn and Dixon. 

Sark smirked. "Yes, I believe that's been my mantra since I've arrived, Agent Kendall." 

Kendall muttered a few muted words to himself before continuing on, "You passed the polygraph test. What exactly do you think you're going to be receiving for your help in this matter." 

Sark paused. "I want full immunity." 

Kendall let out an incredulous laugh and looked at Jack. "Did you hear that? He wants _full immunity_!" he exclaimed. He looked back at the young man behind the glass. "I'm afraid that's impossible. We don't have the power to grant immunity." 

Sark shrugged. "Then I'm afraid I don't have the power to lead you to Ms. Derevko and Mr. Sloane." 

Kendall's amused smile melted into a frown. "You cocky son of a bitch--" he started. 

Jack put a hand on Kendall's shoulder. "Kendall, stop," Jack warned. He gazed at Sark. "Can you assure us that Derevko and Sloane will be where you lead us?" 

"Can you assure me immunity?" Sark shot back, crossing his arms. 

Jack looked at Sydney, who gave him a small nod. "We'll get the immunity," Jack said. "I promise you that." 

Sark nodded. "I can get you Sloane and Irina. However, I'd like the immunity agreement in writing before I take you halfway across the world. I don't want to have any nasty surprises when I return." 

"Fine," Jack said through gritted teeth. He turned to his fellow CIA agent. "Let's go." 

"And I'd like something to sleep on, if you don't mind!" Sark called as the group walked away.

"What are we going to do, Jack?" Kendall asked, putting a hand to his forehead. 

"Listen, Kendall," Jack said calmly, "contact your superiors and get them to contact the President. Inform him about the situation. Have them convince the President to grant Sark the immunity." 

Kendall snorted. "Do you really think that'll work? Sark is a murderer. He doesn't deserve immunity!" 

"Criminals don't deserve immunity, Kendall, but how many of them have received it?" Jack asked harshly. "You know just as well as I do that this is the only way that we're going to get our hands on Arvin Sloane and Irina Derevko. Just do it." 

Kendall sighed, then nodded. "You're right, Jack. I'm going to go make a few calls."

Sark looked over the immunity agreement for the third time. "You got this agreement rather quickly, Agent Kendall. I'm impressed," he commented as he leafed through the tall stack of papers. 

"If it's not what you had in mind, we can just drop this right here," Kendall said irritably. 

Sark smiled at the agent. "That won't be necessary. Besides, where would that put you?" 

Kendall's insides raged as the young assassin gave him a cocky look. "Listen, _Mr. Sark_, I'm in no mood for your games. If in any way you compromise my agents on this mission, I will personally take you apart, limb-by-limb. If you screw this up, that immunity agreement will be thrown out the window, do you understand?" 

"Yes, I understand," Sark replied coolly. 

"Good. Now, where are they?" 

Sark looked Kendall over. "They're in Zurich. Taking care of business. Now, I'll need my suit back, please. I made the mistake of wearing my favorite one on my way in."

Three hours later, Sydney, Vaughn, Jack and Sark were sitting in the cargo hold of a plane, making their way to Zurich. Vaughn and Jack had gone toward the front of the plane to talk some things over. 

"What are they trying to do?" Sydney asked. 

"They're looking for Rambaldi artifacts," Sark replied. 

When he didn't elaborate, Sydney asked, "Why?" 

Sark looked her in the eye. "For reasons yet to be revealed." 

"What is that supposed to mean? You don't know?" 

"I don't _want_ to know. Unfortunately, I do, but there's not a chance in hell I'm going to let you in on it. This Rambaldi business is very complex. You shouldn't get involved with it if you don't have to." 

Sark's comment left Sydney wondering about his connection with Rambaldi, but she didn't push the conversation. "Can I ask you something?" 

"I suppose." 

"Why are you helping the CIA? I mean, why are you _really_ helping us? If you hadn't turned yourself in, you wouldn't need immunity. You're smart enough to keep out of the CIA's way, you didn't need us." 

"I gave you my reasons, Ms. Bristow. I had enough of Sloane and Irina. There's only so much one can take." 

"You know what I think?" 

"What's that?" 

"I think you're lying." 

Sark raised an eyebrow. "Do you now? Why?" 

Sydney shrugged. "You say you're an impatient person, and that may be true, but I don't think you're the kind of guy who would drop his associates because he was getting bored." 

"You think you've got everyone figured out, don't you? You don't know anything about me, Ms. Bristow. I doubt that you even know you're little boyfriend. A word of advice, Ms. Bristow: don't try to convince yourself that you can break people down because you can't. Thinking you have that ability will come back and destroy you." 

Sydney glared at him. "Screw you, asshole." 


	5. Discussion

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Sydney glared at Sark when she caught him gazing at her. He didn't avert his eyes as she thought he would, just continued staring. She looked away, but she couldn't shake the feeling that Sark was watching her. Finally, she groaned and walked across the cargo of the plane to where Sark was seated. She sat next to him and raised an eyebrow. 

"What?" she demanded. 

Sark chuckled. "Why, Ms. Bristow, what do you mean?" 

"Why do you keep staring at me?" 

"Is one not entitled to look at someone as lovely as yourself?" 

Sydney smirked and shook her head. "You think you're so smooth, don't you?" 

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything, but not that you mention it…" 

Sydney gaped at him until he let out a small laugh. She realized he was joking, rolled her eyes, and laughed with him. 

"Ms. Bristow," Sark said suddenly, becoming serious, "what I said before was out of line. I apologize." 

Sydney blinked at the unexpected apology. "Um, don't worry about it, it's not important." She paused. "Listen, Sark, I just wanted to say…I'm sorry." 

"For what?" 

"For what I said to you when we were leaving the CIA. I had no right to say those things, and I was way too harsh--" 

Sark held his hand up to stop her. "I deserved to hear every word, Sydney. You don' t have to apologize for opening my eyes to what is true." 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_FLASHBACK_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Sydney at him with disdain as the guards escorted Sark out of his cell. They shoved him up front, and together, they paraded down the hallway. Sydney eyed Sark's moving form, noting the poised way he walked. She thought about all the things Sark had done, all the murders he was responsible for. 

"You're a monster," she said before she could stop herself. "You're a vile beast." 

Sark stopped in his tracks, causing Sydney and the guards to stop as well. He didn't move a muscle as Sydney continued. 

"You…you make me sick. You're a murderer. You show no remorse for anything you've done. You ruin people's lives without a second thought. You show a total disregard for people's feelings to save your own. Hell, what am I saying? You don't even have feelings. You are emotionless." Sydney began to get more heated. "You've damaged _my_ life just by being on this earth! I can't even stand to _look_ at you! I don't even know how I'm talking to you right now!" 

This wasn't about telling him what he was anymore. From the moment Sydney had begun her rant, Sark hadn't moved. Now, Sydney's goal was to get some kind of reaction out of him. She would be satisfied with anything, whether it be a shift in his body or a sound of a snivel. So far, she was getting nothing out of him. 

"You kidnapped one of my best friends and tortured him. For that, I don't want you to die. I want you to _suffer_. I want to take you apart and make you feel the pain my friend went through. You disgust me, and you know what? You disgust everyone else in this building. Do you even _have_ people who care about you? Do you know anyone who would mourn your death? Is there anyone who would miss you if you were gone? Do you have parents, or did they flee once they realized they had given birth to the spawn of the devil?" 

"Agent Bristow--" one of the guards started, sounding tense. 

Sydney silenced him by shooting him a terrifying glare. She looked back at Sark's still form. She was getting frustrated with his lack of response to her harsh words. Suddenly, Sark looked up to his right. Sydney almost celebrated until she realized he was looking at a security camera. She bit her lip, recognizing that anybody could be watching what had been going on. She turned to the guard she had snapped at a moment before and gave him an apologetic look. 

"Let's go," she muttered. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~_END FLASHBACK_*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Sydney shook her head. "No, what I said was wrong. You didn't deserve to hear that, and I didn't mean it." 

Sark chortled. "Of course you meant it. What you said was what you've been meaning to say ever since I've come into your life. I don't hold any of it against you." 

Sydney didn't reply and sighed with relief when Vaughn and her father walked back into the cargo area. She stood and joined them in a corner. 

"What's up?" she asked. 

"We're landing in Zurich in about an hour," Jack replied. "We're going to be staying at the Arabella Sheraton Atlantis Hotel. All of us will get a key card to Sark's room, as well as our own." 

Sydney furrowed her eyebrow. "Why do we all need a key to Sark's room?" 

"We still don't know if we can really trust him, Sydney. Kendall suggested it, and I think it's a good idea to be safe." 

Sydney nodded, though she didn't agree with her father. "Okay, I understand. What's our cover?" 

"We're taking a family vacation in Switzerland," Jack explained. "You and Vaughn will be posing as David and Isabelle Adjani." 

"We're posing as a married couple? So we…share a room?" Sydney asked, a grin forming on her face. She glanced at Vaughn, who smiled back at her. 

"Yes," Jack sighed, shooting a quick glance at Vaughn. "Moving on, I am your father, Joseph Lussac, and Sark will be my son and your brother, Nathan." 

Sydney nodded again. "Got it." 

"Alright, that's all. We're going to spend the night in the hotel without making any forward movements. The next day, Sark will lead us to Derevko and Sloane's hideout, and we'll make a clean arrest." 

Sydney let out a deep breath. "Sounds good." 

"I'm going back up front. If you need anything, you can come get me." 

"Okay, Dad. See you in an hour." 

"Right," Jack replied, nodding to Vaughn as we went back to the front of the plane. 

Vaughn looked at Sydney and gave her a lopsided smile. She giggled and took his hand, pulling him close. 

"So, Mr. Adjani, what do you think we should do once we get to the hotel?" she teased, tracing his spine. 

Vaughn chuckled. "Well I don't know, _Mrs._ Adjani. I guess we'll just have to make it up as we go along," he replied, leaning down to give Sydney a kiss. 

"Oh, for God's sake, take it somewhere else," Sark complained from his corner. 

Vaughn groaned and rolled his eyes. He pulled away from Sydney and glared at Sark. "If you don't like it, you don't have to watch." 

"It's not as if I have a choice with all the noise you're making," Sark shot back. 

"Both of you shut up," Sydney ordered. "We only have an hour left on this plane, so let's just keep it peaceful, okay?" 

"Fine," Vaughn and Sark grumbled in unison, both of them crossing their arms over their chests. 

Sydney sighed. This mission was going to be a trip through hell. 


	6. Authenticity

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

**A/N #2: To answer a question asked multiple times in the reviews, I'm not exactly sure what the 'ship of this story is. It takes place after TTT, so Syd and Vaughn are together, but I've also found myself writing flirtatious scenes between Syd and Sark. I guess all of us will have to wait and see what it turns out to be! **

**WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS VERY BRIEF DIALOGUE SPOILERS FOR EPISODE 2.19, "ENDGAME." **

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"Welcome to the Arabella Sheraton Atlantis Hotel!" the tall, jovial man behind the hotel management desk greeted. "My name is Adrien Hesse. If I am not mistaken, you are the Adjani-Lussac party, yes?" 

"Yes, you are absolutely correct," Jack said, using a faux French accent. "Well spotted, my friend." 

Adrien chuckled. "Well, thank you, sir. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Adjani, your room number is 447. Now, Mr. Joseph Lussac, your room is number 456, and Mr. Nathan Lussac, your room is number 464. I'm sorry we couldn't get your rooms closer, but I'm afraid the rooms in between are not vacant at this time." 

"It's not a problem, I assure you," Jack said, waving his hand nonchalantly. 

"Yes, well, I'm sure you are all tired from your flight. Allow our bellhops to take your luggage up to your rooms, and I'll give you your keys." 

Adrien handed Jack, Vaughn, Sydney and Sark a card key for their rooms, and they turned to go up to their rooms. 

"Oh, hold on a moment!" Jack exclaimed. "You three go on up, I have to take care of some business." 

Sydney wrinkled her brow, but Vaughn took her hand and pulled her along. They took the elevator up the to fourth floor, admiring the lovely glass chandeliers and delicate hand-crafted furniture along the hallways. One of the bellhops led Sark down the corridor of the fourth floor and around the corner to his room while another followed Sydney and Vaughn into theirs. Sydney gasped with delight as they entered the room. There was a large, king-sized bed against the cream-colored wall, as well as two delicately carved wooden bureaus, a television, a small refrigerator, microwave, cupboards, and three lovely lamps. However, what caught Sydney's eye was the view. Sydney grinned as she looked out at the center of Zurich, with Vaughn at her side. 

After the bellhop had left, there was a knock on the door. Sydney and Vaughn looked at each other and sighed, regretting that they had to cut their view of Zurich short. They got up and opened the door to find Jack standing on the other side. He entered the room without invitation and turned to face the two agents. 

"Here are your keys to Sark's room," Jack said, handing Sydney and Vaughn each a small white and blue card with the words Arabella Sheraton Atlantis Hotel etched in script on the front side. "Whatever you do, do _not_ let Sark know that you have complete access to his room." 

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Dad, I think that's one of the more obvious things you've told us." 

Jack nodded. "I know, but we must be _very_ careful. If he does, in fact, plan to betray us, we have to be aware of his every move. We cannot let him compromise this mission." 

"We get it," Sydney said, alarmed at her father's growing irritation. 

Jack took a breath and glanced to his left. "Oh, look…one bed. One bed for two people. Well, uh, I suppose I should be getting to my own room now." He paused, as if he didn't want to leave Sydney and Vaughn alone together. "Yes, if you get into trouble, just…let me know." He slowly trudged out of the room, casting quick looks at the two young lovebirds. 

As soon as Jack had exited their room, Sydney and Vaughn fell into fits of laughter. 

"Did you see the look on his face when he saw the one bed!" Sydney exclaimed, falling into Vaughn's arms. 

"I know! He was trying not to be obvious about it, too! That's what kills me!" Vaughn laughed, leading Sydney to the bed. They plopped down on their backs and sighed, holding each other's hand, reveling in the moment. 

**_Later…_**

Sydney awoke from her sleep and sat up, groggily. She was pulled back down, but her alarm faded when she realized that Vaughn was still gripping her hand, though he was fast asleep. She smiled at his still form and brushed a bit of hair from his face. She stood up and paused, deciding what she should do now that she was up. She bit her lip, then unzipped her suitcase and pulled out a fresh pair of jeans and a black tank top. She changed into her new clothes and was busy tying her shoelaces when a voice startled her. 

"Syd?" Vaughn asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Where are you going?" 

Sydney finished tying her laces and got up from the floor. "Oh, I'm just going out for a walk. Don't worry, you can go back to sleep." 

"No, no, give me a minute, and I'll go with you," he said, moving off the bed. 

"No!" Sydney exclaimed, surprising Vaughn. "Uh, I mean…you know, I think I'd rather go by myself." 

Vaughn gave her a strange look. "Are you sure?" 

"Yeah, I'm totally sure. You look tired, get some more rest." 

Vaughn nodded. "Uh, okay…have a nice walk, I guess." 

Sydney smiled and blew him a kiss. "Thanks." With that, she turned and walked out the door. 

When she stepped into the hallway, she hesitated. Did she really want to do this? She nodded to assure herself that there was nothing to worry about and made her way to her destination. 

Sark sat on his bed, flipping through the channels on the television, and yawned. He looked at the clock sitting on the table to his left. It was 9:43 p.m. He sighed. He had been awake with nothing to do for four hours. He had never been so stationary in his life. He raised an eyebrow when he heard a knock at the door. Assuming it was a bellboy, he prepared himself to act like Nathan Lussac. He smoothed his dress shirt, which he had not taken off yet, and opened the door. 

"Yes, did I leave something down…why, Ms. Bristow, what brings you here?" 

Sydney shrugged. "I don't know. Something just told me I should come over." 

"Uh, yes, well…come in, come in, don't stand there in the hallway," Sark said, ushering her into the room. "Have a seat." 

Sydney did so, sitting on one of the sofa chairs, as Sark sat on the edge of his bed. 

"So there is no particular reason for your visit this evening?" 

"Not really. I'm sorry to bother you." 

"Oh, you're not a bother. I wasn't doing anything especially fascinating." 

Sydney nodded. Sark tilted his head curiously. 

"There's something you want to ask me. What is it?" 

Sydney looked up at him, surprised. "How do you know I want to ask you something?" 

"The way you're avoiding eye contact with me, the way you're sitting…you're uncomfortable here." 

"Maybe that just means that I don't enjoy your company." 

"If you didn't enjoy my company, you wouldn't be here in the first place." 

Sydney paused before responding. "You're so young. How do you pick up these things?" 

Sark averted his eyes from the agent. "I had a good teacher." 

Sydney stiffened. "My mother?" 

Sark nodded. "She taught me all that I know today." 

"See, that's why I don't buy that you would just betray her like this. Why would you help the CIA catch someone who's been good to you for your whole life?" 

"I'm not going to justify that with an answer, Ms. Bristow. If you don't want to believe what I say, then you don't have to. Just know that I'm sticking with the story I came to you with." 

"You're good, Sark. Really good," Sydney commented. 

"But that's not all you wanted to know," Sark said quietly. 

"You're right. It's not." 

"So why don't you ask?" 

"Because I'm afraid you won't give me straight answers." 

"Well, ask away, and I'll try my best to answer sincerely." 

Sydney wasted no time in taking up his offer. "Okay. Who are your real parents? What were they like? Why did you become what you are?" 

Sark blinked. "I…I never knew my real parents, to tell you the truth. I mean, I _knew_ them, briefly. But they were killed." 

Sydney winced. "I'm sorry." 

Sark shrugged. "It's not as if we'd had a chance to bond. Irina told me they were friends of hers. I was sent to school in England at a very young age. Out of necessity one becomes...self-reliant and then perhaps prematurely ambitious. When I was in my early teen years, Irina took me from the school and raised me herself. I suppose I was basically manufactured--" 

"Manufactured to be a spy," Sydney finished for him, nodding in understanding. 

"Yes," Sark agreed. He stretched his arms. "And to think that I _still_ haven't gotten anything out of it." 

"What _do_ you expect to get out of all of this?" 

"Like anyone, Ms. Bristow, what I _want_ is that which I never _had_." 

"And what would that be?" 

"I think you know." 

They sat in silence for a moment, until Sark stood up from his spot on the bed. "Ms. Bristow, I hope you don't mind, but I must get out of this shirt. It's a bit warm in this room." 

Sydney shook her head. "No, I don't mind." 

"Thank you," he replied, walking toward the single bureau in his room. He had already unpacked his clothes and put them away in the drawers. He pulled out a plain, white wife-beater and laid it on top of the bureau. 

Sydney cleared her throat. "Uh, I never imagined you as a wife-beater kind of guy." 

Sark glanced at her and smirked. "Only in private, Ms. Bristow." 

Sydney widened her eyes as Sark pulled of his shirt. She had assumed that he was going to change in the bathroom. But try as she might, she couldn't tear her eyes away from his strong arms. As he pulled the shirt away, she noticed an imperfection on the lower part of his back. It was a scar that seemed to stretch from the back to his rib cage. Her view was blocked as Sark pulled on his wife-beater, and she silently cursed to herself. 

"Would you like something to drink?" Sark asked, opening the refrigerator. 

"What? Uh…oh…no, that's okay," Sydney replied, shaking her head to clear her mind. 

"Good, because this hotel stocks nothing but spring water. Honestly, couldn't they at least provide a bottle of Patruce?" he wondered aloud, sitting back on the bed. 

Sydney giggled nervously, now alarmingly aware of how close she and Sark were really sitting. She bit her lip, then got the courage to ask what she was now wondering. "If you don't mind me asking, where did you get that scar?" 

Sark put a hand to his abdomen, subconsciously, Sydney thought. "Oh…it was a few years ago. I was with Irina while she was on a mission, and…I was stabbed." 

"Oh, my…that's terrible, I'm so sorry." 

Sark shrugged. "I shouldn't have gotten involved. It wasn't my fight." 

"What happened?" 

"Irina was being held at gunpoint. I was young, maybe 18 or 19, I can't remember. Irina had told me to keep out of sight, but I was foolish. The man's back was to me, and I thought, 'This is my chance!' I ran out and attacked him. I made him drop his gun, which was the point, but I didn't know that he had a knife in his boot. I didn't even feel it for the first few minutes, you know. I suppose it was the shock, but I kept fighting. I beat him, then he turned me over and pounded at my face, pounded at the stab wound. That's when the gun went off. He was so busy with me that he didn't notice Irina standing right over him. She shot him in the back, and he fell on me. That's when the pain from the stab wound started kicking in. I couldn't move. Irina kicked him off of me and shot him in the head. I can remember Irina kneeling over me, crying, and berating me for coming out of hiding. That's the most emotional I've seen her since. Anyway, I can't remember what happened between the time I blacked out and woke up again, but the next thing I knew, I was lying in a bed at Irina's beach house." 

Sydney raised her eyebrows. "Not to be crude, but…my mother had a _beach house_?" 

Sark laughed and nodded. "Yes, indeed, and it was a lovely one at that. Nice and large, lots of channels from the satellite…" 

Sydney rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I can imagine the channels you enjoyed watching." 

"What can I say? I had to have _some_ fun." 

Sydney sighed. "You were stabbed when you were _19_," she said, more to herself than Sark. 

"It comes with the deal," Sark said indifferently. 

"But you didn't make the deal," Sydney reminded him. "You were forced into this world." 

"Speak for yourself, Ms. Bristow. It seems as if you didn't choose this life, either." 

Sydney chose not to respond to his last statement. "You know, you _can_ call me Sydney. You don't have to refer to me by my last name." 

"Yes, well, you refer to _me_ by my last name, so it's only fair." 

"Well, we wouldn't have to if we knew your first name. Care to tell me?" 

Sark chuckled to himself. "Not in this lifetime, Ms. Bristow. Not in this lifetime." 


	7. Submission

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

**A/N #2: This chapter picks up where we left off.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"Ms. Bristow," Sark started after an awkward silence, "it doesn't look to me like you got dressed to visit me this evening." 

Sydney sighed. "No, I was actually going to go for a walk." She paused. "Um, I still feel like one…would you like to join me?" 

Sark looked up at her and smiled. "I would enjoy that very much. Thank you." 

Sydney felt her face flush. "It's just a walk." 

Sark didn't respond. He stood and made his way to the door as Sydney followed suit. They walked down the hall and rode down the elevator to the lobby. It was pitch black outside, save for the bright lights shining from the fancy lamps placed along the hotel's garden walkway. 

"So," Sark said, his voice cracking, "what about you?" 

"What about me?" 

"Well, he replied, looking down at his feet, "I've told you about _my_ life. What about yours?" 

Sydney laughed. "I'm not going to go there." 

"Sark raised an eyebrow, then smirked. "This is payback isn't? I don't tell you my name, so you don't reveal anything farther than your own? 

Sydney game him a sweet small and shrugged. "Take it as you like." 

They continued their walk in silence until they reached the hotel's pride: an extravagant fountain, complete with a sculpture of the water god, Atlantis, set directly in the middle of the garden. Water spurt this way and that, lit by bright blue lights. Sydney felt sweat forming on her back and gulped. She and Sark were standing so close. One little movement, and… 

"It's nice," she said, trying to push away her previous thoughts.

Sark looked at her and nodded. "It is beautiful, isn't it?" 

"No, I mean…seeing this side of you. It's nice. I didn't…well, I mean I never have before."

Sark blinked, then looked away. "Yes, well…I suppose in this line of work, I do not often have the chance to show a polite side.

"Gentle," Sydney corrected, more to herself than Sark. 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"Gentle," she repeated. "You're always polite, even in a fight. I've noticed that. This is a gentle side." 

"I suppose," Sark murmured, gazing at the fountain. 

Sydney glanced down and saw Sark's hand hanging loosely at his side. After a moment of debate, she reached down and took it. Sark looked at her, shocked. 

"Ms. Bristow, I--" 

"Sark. Call me Sydney." 

"I don't…" 

He trailed off. Suddenly, he leaned toward her. She closed her eyes, preparing to meet his lips, but instead became stunned when she heard him whisper, "I know what I do to you." 

She immediately pulled away. "What did you say?" 

Sark kept eye contact with her angry glare. He continued, "The question is, Ms. Bristow, do you do the same to me?" 

Sydney let his question sink in. Then, she pulled him close and planted a deep kiss on his soft lips. She tore herself away, panting. This was wrong. It was all wrong. She was in love with Vaughn. But Sark… 

"I apologize if I offended you," he said quietly. 

"Tell me. What's the answer to the question?" she asked coldly, her body heated. 

"You always have, Sydney. You always have." 

There it was. "You said my name." 

"That I did. And I think it every night. Sydney, I only see your face in my dreams. Your eyes, your lips, your skin... Since that night in Paris, I've thought of you. In Denpasar." 

"You knew that was me." 

"Yes. The way you touched me, I'll never forget. Even dressed in that ridiculous cabaret ensemble, you were still the most beautiful woman in the room."

Sydney gazed into his stunning blue eyes as he spoke. She reached up and ran her hand over his smooth skin. Her lips longed for another kiss. But Vaughn. She couldn't. Oh, but she wanted to. Just once more. What could one more hurt? She moaned softly as their bodies grinded, Sark's hand delicately running through her hair and over her back. They swayed in unison, unaware that they were moving closer and closer to the fountain. So engrossed in passion that they didn't realize what would happen until it was too late. Sark and Sydney yelped as they toppled over the edge of the fountain and into the unpleasantly cold water. 

"I'm so sorry!" Sydney exclaimed, wringing the water out of her hair. 

Sark laughed. "No, it's my fault. I should have seen that coming!" 

"Oh, God," Sydney said, chuckling and standing up. The water came up to her knees. Sark stood up after her, and Sydney frowned when she noticed he was shivering. "Sark, are you okay?" 

He smiled at her. "I'm fine," he said, but his chattering teeth ruined his façade. 

"Come on, let's get back before we freeze," Sydney said, hopping out of the fountain. Sark followed her, arms crossed over his chest. They ran back into the hotel. 

"Mrs. Adjani? Mr. Lussac? Are you two alright?"

Sydney and Sark jumped in surprise at the voice. They turned to see Adrien Hesse, the man at the front desk from that morning. 

"Oh, Mr. Hesse," Sydney said, using a faux accent. "Yes, we are absolutely perfect. My brother and I were just taking a walk in the hotel's lovely garden, and we somehow managed to fall into the fountain. 

Hesse laughed jollily. "Oh, the playfulness between siblings never grows old. Nor does it ever cease to amaze me." 

Sydney laughed with him. "Yes, I agree. If you don't mind, Mr. Hesse, we are going to retire in our rooms now." 

"Oh, of course, of course. Have a nice evening." 

"Thank you," Sydney called over her shoulder and she took a hold of Sark's arm and led him to the elevators. 

"Very nice," Sark complimented. 

Sydney smiled at his comment. "You're still shivering," she noted. The water hadn't been that cold, and the night wasn't nearly as chilly. 

"No, don't worry, I'm fine. It happens sometimes." 

It was clear that Sark didn't want to explain, so Sydney decided not to push it farther. But she was still curious. They reached Sark's room, and he opened the door with his key. She made a gesture to follow him in, but he put his arm to the wall to block her path. 

"Sydney, you should go back to your room." 

"What? But I--" 

"Sydney, please," he muttered. "Just go." 

Sydney almost replied, but she decided not to. He wanted his privacy. She could respect that. She turned to leave, but then remembered… 

"Sark!" she exclaimed before he closed the door. 

He turned to face her. "Yes?" 

She bit her lip and took a few steps closer toward him. "Look to see that all your stuff is the way you left it. My dad arranged for all of us to have a key to your room." 

Sark blinked. Sydney was almost positive that the look in his eyes was a sign of hurt. "Thank you for telling me," he said softly. She gently ran a hand through his damp hair and leaned in for one last kiss. He responded, forgetting about the cold he felt. The kiss deepened, and Sydney pushed her way into the apartment, kicking the door closed. They made their way to the bedroom, their clothes dropping on the floor every so often. Sark laid Sydney down on the bed and began to kiss his way down her body. As he reached the top of her left breast, she smiled and flipped him so she was now on top of him. She left her own trail of kisses down his chest, gently tracing the scar on his stomach. Sark groaned, almost uncomfortably, and inched away from Sydney's touched. 

"Sydney," he whispered, "we can't." 

Sydney looked up at him, confused. "What?" 

"We can't do this. Not here, not now." 

Sydney sat up at the edge of the bed and put her head in her hands. "I know," she sighed. 

Sark sat by her and grasped her hand. "It's not that I wouldn't like to, you see, it's just--" 

"I understand Sark," she interrupted. "It's not the time." 

He nodded. She glanced at him and gave him a sad smile. "It's probably good that we don't anyway. I mean, Vaughn…" 

"Yes," he agreed, "we wouldn't want Agent Vaughn walking in. Or your father for that matter." 

Walking in? Oh, yes! The key! Sydney had forgotten for a moment that both Vaughn and her father carried a key to Sark's room. 

"Right." She paused. "You're not shivering anymore." 

Sark laughed. "No, you warmed me right up, Sydney." 

"You should smile more often. I like it." 

Sark looked a bit taken aback from her sudden comment. "Uh, yes, well…I'll try." 

She gave his hand a tight squeeze and kissed him again. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said as she pulled away, leaving him lingering and wanting for more. He sighed as she pulled her clothes back on and walked back to her room. He lay back on the bed and relished in the taste of Sydney's kisses before he drifted to sleep… 

"Sydney." 

Sydney doubled back, startled by the sharp voice. "Oh, Dad…hi. What are you doing up?" 

"I could ask you the same question," he replied, his voice monotone and stone expression set.

"I was just taking a walk," she lied. 

"Did you fall in a pool on the way?" 

She looked down at her clothes, which were still wet. She hadn't even noticed. 

"Um, I…well--" 

"I had bugs and cameras installed in Sark's hotel room before he arrived." 

Sydney's forehead creased before she realized… "Oh, God. Dad, I--" 

"You know, Sydney, it's unusual for an agent of the CIA to be intimate with a prisoner. In fact, I would say it's completely against protocol. Against everything we stand for. For you to make love to that…that--" 

"Man?" Sydney asked angrily. "And we didn't have sex. Nothing--" 

"What, nothing happened? You were both stripping your clothes off because it was hot in the hotel room?" he asked sarcastically. "Sark is a monster, Sydney, you of _all_ people should know that!" 

"Dad, if you've been watching, you would know--" 

"I cannot believe you would be so stupid--" 

"--he was generated to be an assassin--" 

"--to believe his lies and listen to his so-called reason!" 

"--just like you did to me!" 

Both of them took a breath. Jack glared at her and Sydney glared right back. She wouldn't let him win this one. 

"Telling him about the key was a stupid thing to do." 

"Dad, he wasn't lying. I know he wasn't lying." 

Jack saw it in her eyes. She was pleading—no, begging—him to believe that Sark was telling the truth. He groaned. 

"Alright. I'll play along. For now." 

Sydney let out a sigh of relief. She turned to go back to the room, but paused. Without turning to face her father, she said, "Please don't tell Vaughn."

"Don't worry. I won't."


	8. Complicity

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"Syd, wake up," she heard Vaughn's voice say softly. "It's 6 o'clock, your dad wants us down there at seven." 

Sydney groaned and rolled onto her back. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and sat up. "God, I'm tired." 

"Well, yeah, I'd think so. You took a really long walk last night." 

Sydney didn't reply and averted her eyes from Vaughn's. She didn't want to lie to him again. She stood up. "I'm going to take a shower." She quickly walked into the bathroom and locked the door. She turned on the water and stripped away her clothes. As she let her head hang back to feel the hot water, she thought back the previous night. 

"Syd, there you are, I was so worried about you!" he exclaimed, jumping up from a chair and rushing to hug his girlfriend. 

"I…I'm fine," she said, flabbergasted. "I told you I was going to take a walk." 

"I didn't know you were going to walk for two hours!" 

Had it really been that long? "Oh, well…I found a really nice area." 

Vaughn sighed. "Why are you all wet? Did you get into trouble?" 

She shook her head. "Uh, no, it was…raining." 

Vaughn wrinkled his forehead and glanced outside. "Really? I didn't hear any rain." 

"No? Well, it must have just been where I was. It was really quick, though, just some hard rain for a few minutes. That's all." 

Vaughn didn't look like he was buying it, but he shrugged. "I'm just glad you're safe." 

She shook her head to get rid of the thought. She had lied to him. Vaughn had been so worried when she was gone, so caring when she had returned. The guilt she was feeling was endless. Even more so because she didn't regret what she had really done the last night. Being with Sark had given her a chance to be someone she never had before: herself. Vaughn meant the world to her, of course, but they were also partners in the CIA. She had to put on a pro face. Sark, on the other hand, could see right through the mask. He knew her, he understood her. And that scared her. It scared her to be able to empathize with someone who, up to a few hours ago, she thought was a lunatic assassin. But they'd fought many times. He felt her pain, he knew what it was like to be something you didn't want to be. She sighed, confused and torn about her feelings. She finished with her shower and dressed in a black V-neck sweater and jeans. She came out of the bathroom to find Vaughn packing their things. He looked up and smiled. 

"You look great," he said, resuming his packing. 

"Thanks," she whispered. She stood next to him to help him. 

"Syd? Are you okay?" he asked, folding one of his shirts. 

Sydney glanced at him in surprise. "Uh, yeah, I'm fine. Why?" 

"Well, it just seems like you're upset about something. Ever since you got back last night. Did something happen that I should know about?" 

"Have you been talking to my dad?" 

"What? No. Why?" 

"No reason." 

They continued their packing in silence for a moment. 

"Syd, you know I'm always here for you, right?" 

"Yeah, of course." 

"I just don't want you to feel like you can't trust me. I love you, Sydney, I want to be there for you whenever you need me." 

"I love you, too, Vaughn." 

"We can't keep secrets from each other, you know? You taught me that." 

Sydney bit her lip. Vaughn was both irritating her _and_ making her feel even more guilty without even realizing it. 

"Listen, if anything was wrong, I'd tell you, okay?" she snapped, tossing the last item of clothing into her suitcase. 

He stood and faced her. "Okay. I'm sorry." 

Her face softened. She pulled him toward her and hugged him. "No, I'm sorry. I just…I don't know. Everything's fine, you don't have to worry. I'm just kind of tired. And nervous." 

"About your mom and Sloane?" 

She nodded into his shoulder. "And about Sark," she added, truthfully. 

"You're afraid he's going to betray us?" 

_No. But say yes_. "Yeah." 

"Don't worry, Syd. I'll kill him if he tries anything." 

_Don't you dare. _"I know." 

They sat at a table in one of the hotel's restaurants. Sark was the only one enjoying something to eat. He munched on toast and sipped a glass of orange juice as Jack went over the game plan. 

"Sark says that Derevko and Sloane are currently in a warehouse here," he said, pointing to a street marked Rue de Montheux. "Sark is going to disable the security alarm. All cameras and alarm systems will be shut down for exactly 9 minutes and 38 seconds." 

"Why the uneven time?" Vaughn wondered aloud. 

"They're very cautious," Sark replied, taking another bite of his toast. 

"When Sark joins us, we're all going to go in. We disable anyone who gets in our way until we find Derevko and Sloane." 

"There's only four of us," Sydney pointed out. "How are we going to do this?" 

"Sydney, we don't have any other option." 

"What if Sloane and Derevko escape?" Vaughn asked. 

"Then we fail. And we cannot fail, understood?" 

They nodded. 

"Good," Jack said. "Let's get a move on." 

They made their way out of the restaurant and toward the parking lot. Jack led the others to a silver car and opened the trunk. Sydney's eyes widened as she saw that it was filled with a countless number of weapons. Guns, knives, grenades… 

"The whole nine yards," Vaughn said, picking up Ruger .45. 

"Alright, arm yourselves," Jack ordered, picking up a few choice weapons and getting into the driver's seat. Sark and Sydney gave each other a look. She watched as he picked up a few guns, tucking two on each inside pocket of his jacket and one in his pants. He then followed Vaughn around the car and hopped into the backseat. Sydney was left to choose her guns. She took a Ruger, Taurus, and Glock before joining Vaughn, Sark, and Jack in the car. It was time. 

They stopped in front of the deserted warehouse. It seemed as if nobody cared about this street, as if it had been forgotten. Only a few homeless people wandered around, most of them drunk. Sydney looked up at the looming building and shivered. She jumped when she heard Sark speak. 

"I'll go disarm the system," he said, cautiously walking toward the building. 

Sydney turned to her father. "Dad, what are we going to do when we corner them? How are we going to get them out of here?" 

"I have a tranquilizer gun," he replied. "If we find them, they won't be going anywhere. That is, if Mr. Sark isn't planning to betray us." 

"He won't," Sydney muttered, not meeting Vaughn's eyes when he glanced at her curiously. 

Five minutes later, Sark returned. Sydney could see the faintest bit of sweat on his forehead. He nodded. "I got it. We've got nine minutes, let's go." 

They quickly ran to a large door at the side of the warehouse. Sydney and Vaughn positioned themselves at the left of the door while Sark and Jack stood ready at the right. Sydney caught Sark's eye and on impulse, she tenderly said, "Be careful." Sark opened his mouth to respond. 

"I will." 

Sydney winced when Vaughn said the words, disappointed when Sark turned his attention back on the solid steel door. 

"Alright, on three," Jack said, ignoring the brief exchange between Sark and his daughter. 

"1…2…_now_!" 

Sark pushed the door open and led the agents in. 

"Eight minutes!" he warned, running down a hallway. 

"Sark! Damn it! Sydney, go after him!" Jack ordered as he and Vaughn sped up the opposite hall. Sydney obeyed and sprinted after Sark. 

"Do you know where they are?" she yelled. 

"No, they could be anywhere," he called back. He stopped at a door and kicked it open, keeping his gun pointed forward. Sydney followed suit and entered the room, only to find Sark groaning in frustration. 

"This is Sloane's office," he explained, rubbing his temple. 

Sydney glanced around, spotting Sloane's computer. "Maybe…maybe we can upload some of his data and--" 

"Sydney, no. We can't, there's no time. We must find Sloane and Irina _now_." 

Sydney nodded and started to turn when he yelled, "Sydney! Get down!" 

She dropped to the floor with a second thought and covered her head as bullets flew above her. She crawled to a corner to regain her composure. She gasped in horror when she saw a bullet hit Sark's shoulder, watching him as he let out a painful grunt and fell to the floor behind Sloane's desk. From that point, everything became a blur. She snarled and jumped to her feet. She ran forward, disabling as many of Sloane's guards as she was able. After what seemed like hours, one guard remained. She felt a blow to her head, then a knee to the gut before she was thrown to the ground. The guard pointed his gun at her. There was to time to reach for her other guns. She shut her eyes and waited. The gun went off. She felt no pain. 

A/N #2: Muahaha, a cliffhanger! Sorry. There's nothing to fear, I've already written out the next chapter. I just wanted to make it interesting. I'd like to thank all of you for your reviews, and I've decided that after I finish _Show No Emotion_, I will have a sequel. I have the title chosen already. It will be called _One Wedding and a Funeral_. Take it as you like. 


	9. Correlation

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

**A/N #2: This chapter alternates between Sydney and Sark's POVs.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

**Sydney **

I see myself lying on the floor, blood falling from my head wound. The guard stood over my body, laughing and reveling in his triumph. As he celebrates, he doesn't hear Sark coming up behind him. He has no time to react when he hears the click of the trigger. He falls to the floor, dead; his eyes are wide open in surprise. I don't even flinch. Sark's angered face melts into one of sorrow as he falls to his knees, his shoulder bleeding profusely. He hovers over my body, shaking it. I want to reach out to him, tell him it's over. 

"Sydney!" he cries. "Sydney, please! Sydney!" 

I wake to his pleas. I look into his teary blue eyes. What the hell is going on? 

"Oh, thank God," Sark chokes, helping me up from the ground and hugging me tight. 

I look around, confused. Shouldn't I be dead? 

"Sark, I…what's going on?" 

"You were knocked out," he tells me. "It must be that flow to your head. God, Sydney, I thought I lost you. I was so worried." 

Ah. I only blacked out. But just a moment now…worried? 

"Sydney, are you alright? Sydney, answer me!" 

"Sark," I whisper as I turn my attention to his injury. I gently touch his shoulder, but pull away when I feel him cringe. "Your shoulder." 

"I'll be fine," he insists. "It's _you_ I'm worried about right now." 

I move my gaze to his intense eyes. They aren't chilling as they often are, but filled with concern. Only for me. I lean toward his lips, but he stops me. 

"Sydney, no--" 

"Why?" 

"We can't do this now, there is no time!" 

"You've got that right." 

A chill goes down my spine. Sark and I look to the doorway. There stood Sloane, looking high and mighty with his damn smirk, with Irina and what had to be at least 20 guards. 

"I'm sorry to interrupt this moment, really, but I'm afraid it just had to be done. Ah, Sydney. What would Agent Vaughn say?" 

My cheeks flush and my eyes blaze. "You son of a bitch!" Sark holds me back as I attempt to lunge forward. 

Sloane ignores me, which engrages me even more. "And Sark…have we been shot? You're slipping. Although I must admit, you did quite a job on my men." 

"Don't you mean _my_ men?" Sark sneers. 

"It's always about you, isn't it?" 

Sark doesn't reply. I take his hand and give it a reassuring squeeze. I glance at Irina, who hasn't said a word. She catches my glare and turns away. 

"Now, Mr. Sark, Agent Bristow, this building is going to explode in about, oh, four and a half minutes, so I suggest you come with us quietly or die a fiery death. Make your choices quickly. You have four minutes." 

"Sydney, go," Sark says into my ear, gently pushing me forward. 

"_What_?" 

"We don't have any other choice. Just go." His eyes urge me to move, and then I understand. 

I nod curtly. "Fine." 

We walk forward and as one of the guards steps forward to handcuff me, Sark kicks out, knocking the cuffs from his hands. He elbows the guard behind him and yells, "Sydney, run! _Now_!" 

I obey, going as fast as my legs will take me. I hear footsteps behind me. I want to look…but now, it would just slow me down. Just one little peek…my hopes are confirmed when I see Sark. Gunshots ring throughout the hall. Suddenly, Sark halts. His expression contorts into one of extreme pain, and he falls to his knees. I stop. 

"_No!_" I cry, tears streaming down my face. 

He blinks, straining to keep his eyes open. "Sydney, go!" he yells weakly, wobbling on his knees. 

I make no motion to move. 

"Sydney, please. You don't have time! Get your father, get Vaughn…get out!" 

At the mention of Vaughn and Dad, I regain my strength. 

"I love you! And we'll find you!" I yell as I run down the hall.

**Sark **

"I love you! And we'll find you!" she yells, running down the long hallway. 

I feel my eyes fill with tears once again. "I love you," I whisper as the guards run up behind me. I try to cry out as they roughly pick me up. The bullet had hit my back, but luckily, it hadn't hit anything particularly important. The guards bring me back to where Sloane and Irina are standing. Sloane looks me over, smirking at the blood falling from my back and shoulder. 

"Let's get him out of here," Sloane orders. He and Irina lead the way as the guards follow, dragging me along. We come to an elevator and we ride to the very top of the building. I feel my eyes beginning to close. The blood loss is more than even I can take. 

_Just a little longer. Think of Sydney_. 

I do. And it sends me into a sea of black.

**Sydney**

We make it outside and run to the car as quickly as we can. There's a sick feeling in my stomach, as I fear for Sark's life. Or demise. 

_Don't think that way. He'll be fine. We'll fine him, and we'll be together._

But I wasn't so sure. What will Sloane do? And Mom…Irina. What will her role be? Will she be handling Sark's torture? His execution? She isn't likely to take Sark's betrayal lightly. I shut my eyes as Dad puts as much pressure as possible on the gas pedal, speeding away from the building. I had told Sark I love him. And I do. But I should have told him that before this. I feel somebody touch my hand. 

"Sydney?" 

Damn it. I open my eyes and look into Vaughn's. "Hey." 

He smiles. "Hey. How're you doing?" 

_Just peachy. The man I love has just been captured my a maniac and a wanted terrorist, not to mention our plan failed miserably, and I still have to pretend that I love **you**!_

"I'm fine. All things considering." 

"How does your head feel?" 

I shrug. "I'm not really worried about that right now, Vaughn." 

"What are you worried about? _Sark_?" he asks with a chuckle. 

"As a matter of fact, yes, I am worried about Sark." 

Vaughn's smile fades. "Syd…_why_?" 

I shake my head. 

_Unbelievable_. 

"He risked his life for me, Vaughn!" 

"Sydney, he's a terrorist! How can you care about him?" 

"Agent Vaughn," Dad says sharply. "I suggest that you step back. Sydney's been through quite an ordeal, and I am going to take the liberty to assume that she needs space right now." 

Vaughn looks taken aback, and I shoot a thankful glance at Dad through the rearview mirror. Vaughn sits back in his seat and stares out the window. 

"Dad," I say to fill the awkward silence. "We have to get him back. We can't…we can't let him die." My voice cracks as I say the word. "He saved my life, and--" 

"Sydney, I don't intend to let him stay in Sloane's custody." 

"Well, how are we going to get him back?" 

"Before we left the hotel, I convinced Sark to let me implant a tracking device on him. It's undetectable, of course, so Sloane and Derevko won't be able to find it with a scanner." 

A smile slowly creeps across my face. "Dad, you're a genius." 

"No, I'm just prepared. After all, I'm not going to take a chance with Sark." 

I don't get the chance to respond because an enormous explosion sounds behind us. My father slams and breaks and we all jump out of the car to inspect the damage from afar. The color drains from my face. 

_Sark_. 


	10. Dishonesty

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at sarkaholic23@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"No!" Sydney cried as the building burst into flames. Tears streamed down her face as she was overcome with the realization that she may never see Sark again. Then, it was as if the Lord in Heaven had taken pity on her. A helicopter rose from the smoke and flames, flying away from the damage. Sydney's jaw dropped. She knew Sark had to be on that helicopter. She turned to look at her father, her eyes wide. "Dad, is the tracking device activated?" 

Jack nodded. "It's been activated since day one. We'll get him back, Sydney." 

She let out a sigh of relief and looked back at the helicopter as it got smaller and smaller. 

"We'll leave when you're ready," Jack said, climbing back into the car. 

Sydney didn't respond. She tensed when she felt Vaughn's touch on her arm. She couldn't deal with him right now. 

"Vaughn, I--" she started. 

He cut her off. "You love him, don't you? Sark?" 

She looked him in the eye, suddenly feeling guilty for her lies and disloyalty. His eyes begged her to say no. To say that she still loved him more than life itself. That she would never leave him. But she couldn't. "Yes," she whispered. "I do love him." 

He blinked, his eyes becoming cloudy, and nodded. "I see." 

"Vaughn, I'm so sorry. I don't know how it happened, I just--" 

He held up a hand. "I don't need to hear it, Syd." 

"But--" 

"I _don't_ need to hear it!" he snapped. 

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. She sighed, irritably and regrettably, and jumped back into the car. 

DUBLIN, IRELAND 

"Mr. Sark," he taunted, "wake up." 

Sark slowly and groggily opened his eyes, squinting as they met the bright lights. He let out an almost inaudible groan, shifting to ease the pain in his back and shoulder. He found that it didn't do much good. His hands were cuffed behind the hard, metal chair he was seated on. He looked to the voice. 

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked, sarcastically. 

"Go the hell," Sark snarled, lunging toward Sloane, held back only by the cuffs. 

Sloane chuckled. "Still as vibrant as ever, aren't you?" His smile melted into an angry frown. "Now, you betrayed Irina and me. That wasn't a very intelligent thing to do, and you know that. So why did you go the CIA?" 

Sark shrugged. "We all have our own agendas. You have to know that. Do you honestly believe that Irina will be loyal to you?" 

Sark didn't cried out when Sloane backhanded his face. His breath came out in little gasps, but Sloane remained calm, acting as though nothing had happened. 

"I'm willing to play games as long as you are, Sark," Sloane said. 

"Where are we?" 

"Dublin." 

"Why?" 

"Does it matter?" 

"It does to me." 

"Frankly, my dear boy, I just don't give a damn." 

Sark rolled his eyes. He hated it when Sloane destroyed classic film quotes. "What do you want?" 

"Mmm, _want_. What a strong word it is, _want_. There are many things that I _want_, but few things that I actually _need_. For example, I _want_ you dead, but I _need_ to know what you told the CIA." 

It was Sark's turn to chuckle. "You know just as well as I do that I will never tell you." 

"Which is _exactly_ why we're turning to torture!" Sloane exclaimed gleefully. 

"You can do whatever you'd like to me. I'm not going to say a word." 

"You say that now. But in a few hours, you'll be spilling information like there was no tomorrow." 

"You keep that little fantasy in your head, Mr. Sloane. It's not going to happen." 

"We'll see." 

Sark raised an eyebrow. "I've been tortured before. There's nothing you can do that I won't be able to handle." 

Sloane shrugged. "Well, as long as we have fun doing it." 

"Somehow I have no doubt that you will." 

"We finally agree on something." Sloane leaned in close to Sark's face. "Save yourself the pain, Mr. Sark. What did you tell the CIA?" Sark raised his chin defiantly, causing Sloane to let out a heavy sigh. "Very well." 

He stepped away from Sark and walked toward the large metal door that stood between Sark and his exit. Sloane opened the door and just outside stood four men. 

_No doubt they're Sloane's lackeys_, Sark thought to himself. 

"It's time to begin, boys," Sloane announced. "Don't get too rowdy." 


	11. Deception

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at freakrightout@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past.**

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

The sound of the steel door opening no longer fazed him. He had already been through hours (he had stopped counting) of endless torture and now, nothing could hurt him. He gave an involuntary shudder when a cold hand touched his bare chest. Well, almost bare. He was covered in fresh bruises, horrifying burns, and deep, painful cuts. He moaned softly when he heard a woman's voice say his name.

" Sark , wake up," she gently commanded. "Julian, open your eyes."

Hearing his first name revived him, and he obeyed. His eyelids slowly lifted, and he was greeted by a face lined with worry.

"Irina?" he whispered, his throat too dry to do much else.

"Shh," she soothed, unbuckling the harsh straps that held him down on the steel gurney. She helped him sit up and told him, "I only have 160 seconds left before the security cameras come back on, you have to listen carefully." She paused. "Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" He nodded, letting out a sigh of both pain and relief as Irina fed him water and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Jack, Sydney and Agent Vaughn are coming for you," she said. Taking note of his confusion, she quickly added, "I don't have time to explain, but Jack and I have been in communication. Do you remember the tracking device put on you?" Off Sark's nod, she continued, "They know where we are, and they're planning to take you back to Los Angeles . Sark , you cannot go back. I need you to come with me, I need your help. I am helping Jack take possession of all Rambaldi's devices so Sloane cannot fulfill the prophecy. Sark , I know you love my daughter. I heard it with my own ears. Now I need your help to save her. Are you hearing me?"

Sark was taken aback, but he knew Irina only had a few more seconds before the camera feed went live. "Yes," he croaked. _For Sydney . Anything for Sydney ._ She nodded and brushed a few stray hairs from his face. She placed a light kiss on his head, an exchange of affection saved for only the most special of times. She rarely showed any emotion toward him, though he knew that beneath her tough exterior, she did care for him deeply.

"Thank you, mon fils," she whispered. _Thank you, my son. _He gave her a small smile to show that he understood her meaning. He then gave her a look of confidence when a device in her pocket let out a deafening ring. Their time was up.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her fist tensing. He nodded, preparing himself. She backhanded his face, causing him to fall hard back on the cold steel. "You son of a bitch," she snarled crudely, strapping him back down. "You are damn lucky that you're still alive."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

"Are you sure?" Sydney demanded.

"Yes, he's in there."

"You're positive?"

"Yes, Sydney ! Trust me, this is where he is."

"What are we going to do? How are we going to find them? The place is surrounded!"

"I'm not sure yet. Stay here, I'm going around to look for another entrance."

Without waiting for a response, Jack rushed out of the car, leaving Sydney, Vaughn, and an awkward silence. Sydney risked a glance at her ex and was surprised to find him looking back at her. She was about to speak when he interrupted her.  
"I'm sorry, Syd."

"What? No, Vaughn, I should be the one who's sorry…"

"I shouldn't have blown up at you before, about…you know."

"I can't blame you. I would've done the same."

"Listen, Syd, I just want you to know…I'll always be here. Always."

She nodded. "I know, Vaughn."

"Just know that, you know. If you ever decide one day that…"

"I won't," she cut in. "But thank you." They sat in silence until Jack tapped on the window.

"I found a way in."

Sydney 's eyes widened. "Let's go."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

Irina stood at the side entrance of the building, waiting for her ex-husband, daughter and Vaughn. So far, all was going as planned. She could only pray that her temper wouldn't cause her to do anything rash. She wanted to kill Sloane for the pain he had caused Sark . He was her protégé. Her _son_. But she had made an agreement with Jack: Sloane for Sark . Although they would never admit it to each other, it pained both Irina and Jack to separate their daughter from the man she loved. But it was the only way to prevent Rambaldi's prophecy from being fulfilled. It was the only way to save Sydney 's life. With Sloane in CIA custody, Irina and Sark could work all the more quickly. Getting Jack and Sydney inside the building was the easy part. Getting all of them out alive was a different story. Irina turned when she heard footsteps, coming face-to-face once again with her daughter.

"_Mom?_"

"Hello, sweetheart."

"I don't understand," she said, shooting an accusing look toward her father.

"Sydney, your mother is going to help us find Sloane and Sark ."

"Wait," Vaughn interrupted, "you two have been _working_ together?"

"There's not time for explanations, Sydney ," Irina said, ignoring the question. "You're just going to have to trust me."

"That sounds familiar."

" Sydney , listen to your mother," Jack said sharply. "If you want to get Sloane…if you want to help _Sark_ , we have to trust her."

Sydney held back an irritated sigh and glared at Irina. "Fine, let's go. But I swear with God as my witness, if you betray us, I _will_ kill you."

Irina hid a smile. _That's my girl_, she thought to herself. "Follow me."

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

"Tell me what she said to you."

"What do you take me for, Mr. Sloane? A fool?"

"You won't be able to keep going like this for much longer, Mr. Sark, as I'm sure you've realized. You _will_ break, and I am going to enjoy every glorious moment when it happens. If you tell me what Irina said, you will save yourself a lot of trouble."

"She said nothing. She was simply trying to beat answers out of me."

Sark rocked in his chair when Sloane struck him. "_Don't lie to me! Irina is plotting to betray me, we both know it! Tell me what she said!"_

"What makes you think she's going to betray you? And even if she were, why would she tell _me_?"

"The disruption of the camera feed is proof enough. She should have known better, As for why she would tell you, well, you're her little pet. I would be more shocked if she hadn't told you her plans."

"What you're saying may be true, but if it were, what could you _possibly do to stop her?"_

"Do you take _me_ for a fool, Mr. Sark?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, or should I just stare?"

Sark frowned angrily. "Any plan that Sydney Bristow and Irina Derekvo have formed to save you _will_ fail. I have absolutely no intention of letting you go back with them."

"Yes, well, I agree."

Sloane smirked. "Do you, now?"

Sark returned the sneer. "Do you really think my love for Sydney is true? It was a ploy to lure her to the warehouse in Zurich . From there, I had good faith that your men would blast her and bloody father and boyfriend to the oblivion, and I would be free. So, in fact, Mr. Sloane, it was _you_ who failed."

Sloane laughed in disbelief. "You're bluffing." His voice reeked of confidence, but Sark detected a hint of nervousness. That was enough.  
"Perhaps."

"You don't honestly expect me to believe that."

"Believe what you like Mr. Sloane. But remember, I've been loyal to you thus far. I was you who betrayed me."

"You're a clever young man, Mr. Sark, and I respect you for that. But you're an assassin. You are trained to deceive, and I hate to break it to you, but Sydney Bristow could never love someone like you."

Sark raised an eyebrow. Sloane's game was obvious. "Then I suppose it's a very good thing that I have not fallen for her, isn't it?"

Sloane did not respond, and the two men sat in silence, glaring at each other for what seemed like hours until…

"Put your hands in the air!" she shouted. Behind her stood Jack, his gun pointed in the opposite direction, on guard and ready to shoot anyone who would interfere with their mission. "Turn around and put your hands in the air!" Sark caught Sydney 's eye and gave a small nod to her silent question. 

_Are you alright?  
Yes. Yes, I'm alright, but not for long. Not without you._

"I won't tell you again! Put your hands in the air, damn it!" Sloane finally complied, raising his arms slowly above his head. Sydney immediately moved toward him, tightly cuffing Sloane's wrists.

" Sydney ," he started.

"Keep your mouth shut, you son of a bitch."

"You won't get out of here alive, trust me. At least, not everyone will."

"Yeah, I know. You should really look into hiring better guards."

"I'm curious, Sydney , where is your mother? Irina had to be in on this."

"You're damn right I was," a cold voice replied. Sloane turned to see Irina, her face set with bitter anger.

"How nice of you to join us, Irina."

Sydney shoved Sloane toward Vaughn, who had followed Irina through the door, and quickly moved to release Sark . When free of his binding, he pulled Sydney into a tight hug. He felt her tears fall freely onto his shoulders and shivered. He ran his hand through her dark hair, whispering assurances that he would be fine.

"I love you," she said softly, playing with the curls behind his neck.

"I love you, too, Sydney," he replied, his voice turning husky with compassion.

Their moment was ruined when a sharp voice called them back to reality.

"We have to get out of here before more guards find us," Jack said.

"Let's go," Irina agreed, motioning for Sark and Sydney to follow. However, Sark cried out and nearly crumpled to the floor when he tried to move.

"What? What is it?" Sydney asked worriedly.

It was a shattered ankle, courtesy of a particularly burly man that Sark had named Bojangles, merely for amusement. Bojangles was now lying dead at the door, and as Sydney helped Sark along, he wished the dead body a cursed lifetime in hell. After that, everything went by in a blur. Irina and Jack led the way, shooting any opposition, with Sark and Sydney following behind, and Vaughn bringing up the rear, forcing Sloane ahead. When the group finally reached the exterior of the building, Sark felt as if he could collapse right then and there. Irina and Jack stopped in front of the car that he, Sydney and Vaughn had arrived in.  
"I'm taking this car," Irina said.

"_What?_" Sydney explained.

"There's a van waiting for you right around the corner," Irina explained. "The driver is completely reliable, and he will take you straight to the airport where CIA operatives are waiting for you to detain Sloane."

At the sound of his name, Sloane spoke, "I must admit, Irina, you had me fooled."

Irina waited a moment before she spoke again. "Sloane, you disgust me. And if you ever get out of CIA custody, I swear to you that I will be firs tin line to rip your throat out."

Jack was the first to break the tension. "We can't afford to waste any more time."

"Jack's right," Irina agreed. She turned to Sark . "We need to leave."

Sydney looked at him, the shock and pain plainly etched on her face. " Sark ?"

Sark felt his heart shatter to pieces. He cupped her face with his hands and placed a gentle kiss on her lips. "I'm so sorry, Sydney, but…I have to go."

"I don't understand…why…why are you doing this to me?"

" Sydney , I know you don't understand, but you will. Someday, you will, and I promise you, when that day comes, we will be together."  
" Sark , please, you can't go."

"I promise you, Sydney . We'll be together. Do you trust me on that?"

Sydney held back a sob. "Yes," she whispered. "Yes, I trust you."

Sark wiped the single tear that fell from her eye. "I love you."

"I love you," she answered.

Sark flinched when Irina lightly gripped his arm. " Sark ," she said softly. "We have to go."

He nodded, giving Sydney 's hand one last squeeze. "I promise," he said again, before allowing Irina to help him into the passenger's seat of the car. Irina quickly ran to the driver's seat and started the car. As they drove away, Sark held Sydney 's gaze until he could see her no more.


	12. Sydney's Lament

**Show No Emotion**

**Spoilers: No**

**Archive: Yes, but please let me know at freakrightout@hotmail.com**

**A/N: This takes place after Truth Takes Time. Tenses in this story will change. When it is in first person POV, it will be in present tense. When it is in third person POV, it will be in past. **

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ **

** 2 Years Later… **

Sark , 

It's been two years since I last saw you. It's been two years since I last talked to you. It's been two years since you made me a promise that we would be together. I can't wait for you anymore. What I mean is, I _can't_ wait for you anymore. I told you a few letters ago that Vaughn proposed. That was six months ago, and it took me three months after that I realize that I need to let you go. So I'm going to let you go now, Sark . Even though you haven't and never will get any of the letters I've written, I feel like I need to let you know what I'm feeling. Vaughn…or Michael, rather, and I are got married today. The ceremony was four hours ago, and I'm sitting in the bathroom during our reception, writing this to assure myself that you aren't coming back. We aren't going to be together like you promised. And I think I've accepted that. I _have_ accepted that. So here I am, looking at my wedding ring, thinking about how my life would change if you suddenly showed up. It wouldn't. I would still love Michael. I would still love my husband, and you wouldn't be able to change that. Not this time.  
You said that the day we'd be together would be the day I understood why you left me standing in the middle of an old, abandoned parking lot, wondering if I would ever see you again. You didn't really love me, did you? Maybe I'm just being selfish, but if you had really loved me, you wouldn't have left. What we had ended before it even began. You realize that, don't you? I cried so much over you the last two years. I didn't know whether you were dead or alive. I didn't know if you were hurt somewhere, or dying, or…anything. I lost so much because of you. What you need to understand is, I don't hate you. I could never hate you, not after what we went through. But you have to know that if you walked into my reception today, I wouldn't go off with you. I am staying faithful to Michael, and nothing you do or say will change my mind. You know, it's funny. I don't know who I'm trying to convince. 

With Love, 

Sydney Bristow-Vaughn 

To be continued in the sequel, "One Wedding and a Funeral." 


End file.
